


and finally breathe

by saintberry



Category: Victoria (TV)
Genre: F/M, aka i watch too much suits, it's the law firm AU that nobody asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 13:04:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8103343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintberry/pseuds/saintberry
Summary: "Despite what he tries to repress, seeing her brightens his day. Teaching her becomes its highlight. He was eighteen when he married the law, but it’s taken him a long time to remember why he loved it. It’s taken him a long time to remember that he can love anything."Disillusioned corporate lawyer William Lamb has wanted to retire for years -- but when when his oldest client, William Hanover, dies and names his eighteen-year-old niece as his company's new CEO, he takes it upon himself to keep her at the helm. Vicbourne law firm AU.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so i have like four different vicbourne fics in the works and this happened to be the one that i finished first. so yay. who needs "goodbye lord m" when you can have a lawyer au intead, amirite?

He was eighteen when he got married.

Not to Caroline – no, he was twenty-four then, decked out in a suit and waistcoat and a purple tie to match the flowers. No, he was eighteen when he married the law – spending $300 on textbooks, moving his belongings into a dorm room, wide-eyed and ready to save the planet. Only eighteen, but certain that he could make a difference – his heart sold to the law, and his soul thrown in for free.

He was eighteen when he married the law, and twenty-three when he realised he should have signed a prenup. Drowning in law school debts, struggling to pay New York City rents, planning a wedding and saving for the future – it was a choice of him or the polar bears, and he chose himself. Gone was any thought of nobility – any hope that he, or any other person, could make any kind of difference. A corporate lawyer in the making, putting food on his table, thousand dollar suits on his own back. He’d been eighteen when he’d married the law, and never found it in himself to file for divorce.

His son was born a few years before he made partner – his pride and joy, his new reason to work. Nearly half the hours in the week were spent in the office, another quarter of them spent asleep – but the rest, the rest he spent with his boy – his little boy with such a big name.

But for a financial lawyer, so good with numbers, so charming to clients, he left one vital thing out of the equation – his wife. He never divorced the law, but she divorced him – taking his boy, and taking his last reason to ever leave the office.

He’d been tempted to ignore her number when it flashed up on his phone that day, too buried in case files to find time to speak to her – still in love with her, but still too busy fooling around with the law. He’d buzzed through to Emma, asked her to tell Caroline to call tomorrow, when his secretary’s voice came through the speaker uncertainly.

“She sounds upset, William. I think you should answer.”

When he remembers that moment, he remembers it in slow motion – hears the click as he accepts the call, listens to Caroline’s breathless sobs through the receiver. The blood in his veins freezes into ice, his heart skipping one long, eternal, endless beat. And then she chokes out their son’s name, and everything speeds up – suddenly he’s at the hospital, doctors talking to him in gentle, pitiful tones, and he’s the one choking and sobbing and unable to breathe.

He takes the next day off. And then he’s back at the office, in the arms of his love, and an eighty-hour week turns into a hundred-hour week, sad stares from his colleagues, the offer of paid leave from his boss – but this is all he has, the only thing left for him, so he stays, refuses their pity and their pay – his love for the law is the only love he has left.

But he doesn’t love it, not really. Once the wound from Augustus’ death has scabbed over, a rough stitch from every case that has kept him busy since, he realises that he was wrong – he doesn’t even have his love of the law left. He’s a sell-out, the worst kind of lawyer he could be, and it lost him everything and everyone he loved.

He goes through the motions after that. Files motions, goes to court, meets his clients with charm and grace. There’s promotion on the table for him, but he doesn’t care – already looking for houses out of the city, wanting a change of scenery, more than ready to retire. For the first time since he was eighteen, he imagines being single – trying to think up hobbies to keep his time occupied.

“How about bird-watching?” Emma suggests, shooing a pigeon from his window ledge.

He’s a week from handing in his resignation when William Hanover dies. The first client he ever brought to the firm – the first client to make him popular with the managing partners. A billion-dollar housing company, and a close, personal friend. It’s fitting enough – his first client is dead, and he’s ready to move on to somewhere else, too.

Two days later and there’s a tiny woman sitting in his office, her feet barely touching the ground. He throws a questioning look at Emma, who hands him a file with a few lines highlighted. When he reads the information, he raises an eyebrow.

“She’s the CEO of Hanover Housing now? How old is she?” He may be one of the firm’s most promising lawyers, but Emma is his right-hand – and always a step ahead of him.

“Eighteen. Five foot two, to answer your next question.”

He re-reads the highlighted information, and hands the file back to Emma. “Interesting.”

With a roll of his shoulders, he walks into the office, extending a hand to the young woman in front of him. She takes it with a timid smile, introduces herself as Victoria, accepts his condolences with grace. He listens to her as attentively as he can, already thinking of the vacation he has planned to see his sister when he finally retires next week, planning the gifts he’ll take for his nephews.

But then everything changes. He was eighteen when he married the law, and he’s forty-two when his love affair with it really starts again. Victoria Hanover is utterly unprepared for the job of running a business, quick with the numbers she presents him, always good with the names – but utterly naïve.

Everyone and everything is expendable in the corporate world – but she’s like Bambi on ice, and suddenly he feels needed again, afraid she’ll fall and take Hanover Housing down with her.

He spends hours poring over the company’s constitution, summarising each rule and each amendment to teach her enough to function. He has never seen someone more attentive, never felt more certain a meeting will go well than when she walks into his office almost every other morning. He’s not certain why William Hanover put her in charge – but he’s grateful for the breath of fresh air’s it’s provided.

He calls his sister and tells her he’ll have to visit at Christmas, instead.

As he spends his days teaching her about her own company, her board move to work against her. She’s inexperienced, a teenager who won’t listen to them, a woman in the world of business. They want one of their own in charge – and failing that, they want someone they can control. He suggests she sits down with them, lets them believe they are teaching her – but she’s stubborn, and fiery, and refuses to co-operate while they plan a coup.

“I’m trying to stay true to my uncle, while they’re staying true to their own greedy interests. There must be some way to stop them.”

“There most likely is. But it will be war.”

“Then we will have to drive them to surrender.”

There’s a glint of determination in her eyes, and he can’t help but smile.

It _is_ war. He finds all his waking hours pre-occupied with her case, calling in as many favours as he can to out-manoeuvre the people working against her. He files motion after motion, calls her in to suggest strategies, has Emma use her network of secretaries to find out the board’s next move. Like in every war, it’s about staying one step ahead – cutting off their supply lines, tearing them apart from the inside. It’s war, and it’s _exhilarating._

When he isn’t busy finding ways to keep her as CEO, he’s teaching her how to be one. She may be young and inexperienced, but he’s starting to see why her uncle passed the reigns to her. She’s quick-witted, charming, truthful, and incredibly bright – absorbing all the information he gives her like a sponge. And on top of that, she’s got a heart – unwilling to sacrifice people for profits, just like her uncle. That’s the difference between her and the board. He begins to suspect that’s why they want her gone.

Emma stops bothering to warn him when she arrives – she walks into his office freely, putting a smile on his face, stopping by to ask a question, or give her interpretation of the most recent by-law they’ve been studying. Her visits almost feel domestic – especially when she starts proudly showing him photographs of Dash.

Once they exhaust learning about Hanover Housing, he moves on to business – teaching her the practicalities of running a company. He draws diagrams, teaches her mnemonics, has her recite rules and regulations back at him. He watches her blossom from an inexperienced teenager thrust into the spotlight into a business-savvy CEO, quick with ideas, and even quicker with comebacks.

He hesitates to describe her transformation as one from a girl to a woman – but there’s a different air about her now, a new dignity, and he finds his eyes linger on her for longer than he thinks they should.

Despite what he tries to repress, seeing her brightens his day. Teaching her becomes its highlight. He was eighteen when he married the law, but it’s taken him a long time to remember why he loved it. It’s taken him a long time to remember that he can love anything.

The more he searches, the more he begins to realise that the board is not simply opposed to Victoria. This coup has been in the works for a while – ready to be enacted as soon as William Hanover was at his weakest. An old man with a big heart, profits at the back of his mind, the board were moving to work against him the way they move against Victoria. He has no doubt that the board celebrated on news of his death – a sheltered eighteen-year-old would be far easier to push out than the founder of the company.

He vows for both William and Victoria’s sakes to fight even harder.

“I didn’t realise so much of law is about making deals. It seems a little shady. Isn’t justice supposed to be transparent?”

She’s sitting on his couch, swinging her legs as she talks, and he laughs a little at her words. He finds himself laughing more and more now days, from the smallest of comments from her, to long stories about Dash and the lakes of Central Park. He’s waiting for the phone to get off hold, desperate to talk to a judge about a particular board member.

“That’s corporate law for you. It’s all about strong-arming your competition. The case is often unimportant. You just have to beat the opposition.”

They’re interrupted by a knock on the door, the managing partner visible through the glass. He gestures for her to enter, though she only takes half a step inside.

“William, a word?”

She glances outside pointedly, and he excuses himself to Victoria, telling Emma to keep the judge talking if he finally picks up. He’s been on hold for fifteen minutes – he won’t lose his opportunity now. When the door of his office shuts, he looks expectantly at his boss.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time on this Hanover case.”

It’s a statement, not a question – one he thinks could be dangerous. He simply shrugs, ignoring the suggestion in her tone.

“William Hanover was my first client. His board wanted to take him down, and now they’re after his niece.”

“And you represent the company, not his family.”

“And considering the board knows that I was a personal friend of William Hanover, I won’t represent the company any more if they succeed in pushing Victoria out.”

“I don’t think your closeness with _him_ is the reason they’d want rid of you.”

His boss glances at where Victoria is still sat on his couch, looking around the walls of the office. A blush creeps onto the back of his neck, but the woman in front of him has been responsible for teaching him to bluff his way out of anything.

“Hanover Housing turns over billions, a great deal of which goes straight into our pockets. Victoria has little experience running a business, and I’ve been doing my best to ensure they have a competent CEO at the helm. If the company tanks, our firm loses, too. What’s best for them is what’s best for us.”

His boss stares at him for a moment, the piercing gaze he cowered from as an associate. He does his best to stand firm to it now. He’s faced worse in court.

“People talk, William.”

And with that, she leaves him.

He was eighteen when he married the law. Nineteen when he first started sitting its exams, struggling through hours of hand-cramp and trying to read his own messy scrawl. He’s forty-two now, remembering how he held his breath when finding out his grade. The law takes his breath away even now. Nerves bloom in his chest as his appointments with her approach, a blush on his cheek as he hands her his proposals. The paperwork he gives her makes him smile, watching her sign her name with a flourish.

He wonders if it really is the law having this effect on him.

Deep down, he knows that it’s not. It’s the pink of her lips that has him staring, the light in her eyes that draws him like a moth to the flame. He may have married the law, may have kept it on as a mistress during his time with Caro, but it’s not the law he goes to bed thinking about. It’s not the law he wishes would smile at him first thing in the morning.

Slowly, one by one, they take the board down. Through deals, favours, and a creative interpretation of the constitution, people start stepping down, by choice or by force. Soon, it becomes an even split – 50% on her side, 50% working against her. And then it becomes 60-40. And then 30-70. It’s the most exciting case of his life, thrilled every time he gets to call her and announce that another one’s bitten the dust. And then the last few members opposing her step down, and Hanover Housing can run securely again.

“A toast,” he suggests, heading towards his drinks cabinet. It’s more of just a shelf, but he’s never really liked keeping alcohol in the office. “A celebration. What will it be? Your uncle was always partial to whiskey.”

When he turns round to see her response, he finds she’s standing behind him – his heart jumping at her sudden closeness. She places her hand on his arm – and he can feel her fingers burning through the thin material of his shirt.

“I was thinking we could go out for a drink. To celebrate.”

“Here isn’t good enough?” he asks, and he’s surprised he can even find his voice. He feels a little lightheaded, faltering under the intensity of her gaze. “This is the finest whiskey in New York.”

“I thought it might be nice for us to get out of the office.”

 _Us._ His heart leaps again at the thought of an ‘us’.

“I’m not sure that’s entirely wise.”

“Why not? You used to go for drinks with my uncle, didn’t you?”

It’s true. But her uncle didn’t look at him in quite the same way.

“You’re not your uncle, Victoria.”

He says it as softly as he can, hoping – praying – that she’ll understand. There are ethics to consider – firm rules that he cannot break. But a sudden look of hurt flashes across her face, taking a step away from him as she struggles to conceal her expression, and he realises that she hasn’t understood. For once, she’s added two and two up to five.

“Oh. I understand. I thought perhaps we were friends, but clearly not. Thank you for all your help with the board, Mr. Lamb, it has been much appreciated. I won’t bother you again.”

She turns on her heel, tears of embarrassment pricking in her eyes, but he grabs her hand before she can leave, fingers closing around her small wrist.

“Victoria. I didn’t mean it like that.”

She spins around again to face him, her eyes narrowed at him, attempting to pull her hand away from his. Guilt pools in his stomach at the hurt in her eyes. He should just let her believe it – but he can’t stand to be the reason she looks like _that._

“How else could you mean it? You were a good friend of my uncle’s, and clearly you’re not a good friend of mine. I’m just a client to you. That’s fine.”

“Victoria, I – I meant the opposite.”

And suddenly she’s still again, staring up at him, and the warmth of her skin beneath his fingers has never felt more lovely. He can feel her pulse beneath his thumb, racing as quickly as his own. Silence stretches on, and he feels the need to fill it.

“You aren’t just a client to me. Going for a drink wouldn’t be appropriate, because… I don’t feel appropriately. You should just be a client to me, but.. I was a week from retirement when I met you. You have reminded me that I am capable of loving the law. And – perhaps loving in other ways, too.”

 She takes a shaky step towards him, those blue eyes so fixed on his. He’s not sure there’s any air in the room any more, not sure there’s anything in the room but her. Her arm twists in his, her small fingers threading through his own, and then she’s leaning up on her tiptoes, eyes fluttering shut, and he finds himself leaning down to meet her.

They’re only an inch apart when he stops himself.

“Victoria, you’re my client.”

He whispers it, close enough for her to feel the words brushing her lips. Disappointment punctuates his tone.

“Then resign and work as a consultant for Hanover Housing.”

Now _that_ is enough to make him pull back, a frown on his face. She reaches for his other hand, cupping them in her own. Her thumb brushes his knuckles, so distracting that he almost doesn’t hear her when she starts to speak.

“You didn’t enjoy your job before you became involved with running Hanover. You’ve taught me so much, but I’ll never be as good at business as you are. Leave your firm and work for Hanover.”

There’s a begging tone to her voice, and when he looks at her, she’s all sincerity and hope, all earnest, all eyes.  He’s always struggles to resist those eyes.

“I need your help. And I need to be able to see you every day. I’ll match your salary here. And you can bring Emma with you. It’s the perfect solution, and it means I don’t have to lose you.”

He thinks for a few moments, mulling over the idea. His letter of resignation still sits in his top drawer, ready to be handed in at any moment. And then a smile breaks onto his face.

“Well, then I’ll have to let you know that I’ll be leaving the firm in a few weeks. I can reassure you that an equally qualified attorney will be selected to represent your company in my absence.”

She beams brilliantly then, bright as the sun, a smile he knows will warm all his days. She drops his hands to throw her arms around him, and he can’t help the laugh that escapes him as he lets his arms encircle her, holding her tightly for a moment. His skin tingles when he feels her lips place a gentle kiss to his neck, his whole body feeling _better_ for having her so close to him.

She managed to revive his love of law, but somewhere along the way, she revive him, too. He feels younger, almost. Perhaps he’ll be able to run a four-minute mile again.

Probably not, though.

He was eighteen when he married the law, and forty-two when he finds something he loves enough to give it up. _Someone_ he loves enough. His boss and Emma exchange a knowing look when he announces the news to them, but he struggles to find it in himself to care. Victoria has a humanitarian vision for the company, and he begins to wonder if he might even be able to help save the polar bears after all.

She’s his second chance. His second chance at a marriage, at a family, at a career that means something. His second chance at a happy ending.

After his last day as a corporate lawyer, they finally go for the drink she tried to convince him to accept before. They celebrate their victory over the board, celebrate his last day as her attorney, and the sparkle in her eye tells him they’re celebrating something more, too.

She watches him all evening, her eyes roaming his face, and then eventually she works up enough nerve to kiss him. He can feel her anxiety, brushing his thumb down her jawline to help her relax, and soon their kisses become a little too heated for public consumption. Her eyes are bright when he pulls away, lips red and swollen, and when he looks at her, all he can see is happiness.

He was eighteen when he married the law, and he’s forty-four when he marries her. Rumours and gossip have surrounded them since they were caught making out on her desk, her mother particularly opposed to her daughter marrying a man twenty-three years her senior. But Victoria is stubborn, ruled by her heart, and rather than spending $300 on textbooks, they spend thousands of dollars on flowers, dresses, drinks, and centrepieces.

When he sees the tab for the open bar from their honeymoon in Greece a few days later, he’s grateful for all the years he sold his soul to the corporate world. Then he remembers that his wife – his _wife_ – owns a billion-dollar company, and he thinks he might let her cover that one.

“William? What are you looking at?” She emerges from the sea at that point, the water making her body glisten in the sun, and he wonders then why he’s looking at receipts when he could be looking at her.

“Our friends and family drinking away our children’s inheritance.”

He shows her the bill briefly and she just shrugs, climbing onto the sunbed he’s lying on, planting her thighs firmly on either side of his.

“You realise this is the honeymoon, right? This is where we focus on getting the practice in to _make_ the children, not discuss their finances.”

She leans in to kiss him then, lifting his hands to cup her waist, and he’s _also_ grateful for the billion-dollar company for providing them with an apartment with a private beach.

“You make a very persuasive point,” he murmurs, pulling her body flush to his, hand splayed over the bare expanse of her back.

“Well,” she grins, peppering kisses down his neck and chest. He groans as her teeth graze his skin. “My husband _did_ use to be a lawyer.”


End file.
